


Sleepfulness

by cuddlesome



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Insomnia, Sharing a Bed, Touchy-Feely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 19:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15007418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlesome/pseuds/cuddlesome
Summary: Rey helps Kylo get to sleep through their bond.





	Sleepfulness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dragimal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragimal/gifts).



Rey shifts in bed, waking up for what feels like the third time that night. It’s her turn to have one of the bunks in the Falcon. According to everyone else, the bunks are the best place to sleep on-board. She just finds it far too squishy. Rey feels as though she is being sucked into it like the sinking sands on Jakku would suck at her feet if she went too far off the beaten path. The hard floor of the ship is preferable to this.

 

She gets the strangest sensation that something else is keeping her up. When she tries to focus and figure out what that something is, it slips out of her mind’s clutches like the colors in a dream upon waking.

 

Rey rolls over with her eyes shut, considering asking Finn if he wants to trade places if she can’t get to sleep in the next hour. She clutches at the blanket next to her face and stills. It’s not rough like canvas blanket she’s been using. This blanket is silken and cool.

 

Despite already suspecting what has happened, she reaches out a bit farther. Rey feels the smooth, warm curvature of someone’s flank, swelling and receding with their breathing. Part of her wants to believe that one of the Resistance members jealous of her bed for the night had snuck in with her, but she knows the truth. The damned bond can never let her have a moment of peace.

 

Rey opens her eyes. She’s greeted with the sight of Kylo Ren’s pectoral muscles inches away from her face. Squeaking indignantly, Rey withdraws her hand, scoots half an inch back, and looks up at his face.

 

“You look terrible,” she whispers before she can think.

 

Kylo stares at her with dull eyes underpinned with puffy swelling. She can’t tell if the eye bags are due to poor sleep or crying or both. Before speaking back to her, he reaches up with a hand that’s trembling, just a bit, to brush a few strands of hair from her face.

 

“I haven’t slept in five days,” he says in answer to her unspoken question. “I _feel_ terrible.”

 

Before they had had their minds bridged, Rey wouldn’t have had even a shred of sympathy for him. Let him pay for his misdeeds by suffering the inability to rest his massive body and twisted mind.

 

Now, though, she asks, “Why can’t you sleep? Surely there are drugs on-board your ship that can help you.”

 

Kylo’s plump lips turn down in a pout. “I don’t like medicine.”

 

Rey rolls her eyes at the childish assertion.

 

“Besides,” he says, “someone is bound to try to give me a dosage so heavy that I never wake up again.”

 

Rey’s heart drops. He’s probably right.

 

Rey reaches out to touch his flank again. She fingers at the knotty skin where he had been shot on Starkiller. In turn, Kylo rubs both her flank and her hip beneath the blanket and her clothes with his big hand. The tips of his fingers brush against the curve of her arse or get dangerously close to the underside of one of her breasts, depending on the trajectory of his rubbing. He never presses too far, though, so she allows it.

 

“You still haven’t told me why you can’t sleep,” Rey says.

 

Kylo swallows. He presses the side of his face into one of her pillows and exhales.

 

“I keep imagining someone with a weapon standing over me the moment I close my eyes. Luke. Snoke. Hux.” He pauses. “You.”

 

Rey transfers her hand from his side to his chest, just over his heart. It’s slamming against the cage of his ribs like a trapped animal.

 

“You know I would never—”

 

“Sometimes I’m not so sure.” Kylo squeezes his eyes shut. “You could have killed me back in the throne room. Maybe you should have.”

 

“No.” Rey cups his cheek, running the pad of her thumb over his scar. “Ben. Look at me. Only at me.”

 

It takes a moment, but he opens his eyes to reveal that they’re glistening with tears. Kylo puts one of his hands over hers and nuzzles her palm, a transparent attempt to hide that he’s right on the brink. Even then, he doesn’t take his eyes off of her.

 

“I’ll protect you while you sleep,” Rey says. “I’ll make sure no one hurts you.”

 

Kylo leans his forehead against her fingers and she feels the warmth of fresh tears.

 

“I suppose you’ll make sure I only have good dreams, too,” he says.

 

Rey nods and he snorts in disbelief. Still, he lays down. Rey begins to stroke his hair like her mother used to right after she took her hair down, gently working out the tangles and any sand. There are no knots or traces of dirt to be found in his soft, feathery hair, but she imagines that it would still be relaxing. She hums the first few measures of a lullaby, having long since forgotten the words but keeping the melody in the back of her mind.

 

Kylo’s exhaustion, or perhaps his trust in her, makes him easy to lull to sleep. His breathing evens out and the tension in his face begins to smooth away. Tears still drip out of his eyes, arcing down toward the pillow, but they dry quickly.

 

Rey starts to pull her hand away once she thinks he’s deep asleep, but he reacts by wrapping his arms around her whole body and cuddling her close, tucking her head under his chin. He holds her tight. Rey can feel the warmth of his body from across the stars. It’s not long before she, too, falls asleep, no longer bothered by the softness of her mattress with his solid embrace.


End file.
